


We'll bleed a thousand colours

by ArbitraryRambunctious (SheepOutTetradecagon)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Leoji Week 2017, M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheepOutTetradecagon/pseuds/ArbitraryRambunctious
Summary: When Guang-Hong’s aura first started to take form, it was a murky brown.Soulmate AU for Leojiweek 2017





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write something for Leoji week so here's another addition to the heap of soulmate aus. This is my own take at the trope, so I have no idea if this type has been done before, anyways, i tried (-v-;)

An aura can tell you a lot about a person. That is what everyone get to hear from the moment their tiny heads can comprehend the meaning of words and concepts. Even before that time, some parents will be obsessively making guesses at their children’s’ colours.  
  
When Guang-Hong’s aura first started to take form, it was a murky brown. At five years old, the worried glances and muted conversations amongst the adults didn't make sense to him.  
  
The other children would get fawned over and treated like royalty as their aura bracelets turned all sorts of beautiful colours. Just not Guang-Hong’s. Later, he would learn that the people whose colour would create a new colour with your own, could be a potential soulmate. Having a colour which was usually the one associated with a failed relationship for his aura, people would assume Guang-Hong was simply doomed to be without a perfect match.  
  
It wasn’t before he started primary school, what that entailed started to sink in for real. The other kids would pick at him, calling him names and drawing on his stuff. When they played house he was always the family pet. Even the teachers regarded him with a pitying look.  
  
It would not be an overstatement to say his childhood was exceptionally lonely. While he did interact with the other kids, he would prefer to stay in during recess, feeding salad leaves to the class tortoise. The teachers gave up on making him socialise after a month.  
  
“It’s to be expected of someone with his aura.”  
He stopped wearing his bracelet by middle school. Although most people would wear it on their first few days at a new place, as soon as their colour was established, they would leave them at home. It was a relief for Guang-Hong, who could pass it off as being forgetful and move on.  
  
When he got questions about his aura he would shrug it off and tell them it was a plain white. A colour that worked well with most but often meant that the person was bland and not very likely to bring much to a relationship. People would leave him alone, neither hating nor loving him.  
  
His mother tells him to stop caring so much about his aura. Guang-Hong does not comment on how it is easy for her to say. She left his dad just after having him and has been providing for both of them ever since. He sometimes wonders if he is her son at all, her confident and independent personality being sadly lacking in Guang-Hong. He starts to think that her brilliant blue aura has something to do with it. It's easy to ignore a problem when it isn't your own.  
  
It takes Guang-Hong three weeks to make a friend in high school. It is completely accidentally. He had been avoiding his classmates all day when he stumbled into the music room in a free period. Mostly because he needed somewhere to hide but also because he has always admired musicians. He doesn't play anything himself, too scared that any teacher would deem him hopeless as soon as they figured out his aura.  
  
He walks over to the grand piano in the middle of the room. Freshly printed sheet music is propped up on the music stand, creating art in a language Guang-Hong cannot understand.  
  
He reaches out to run his fingers across the sheet music, as if it is the key to reveal a great treasure.  
He doesn't notice when the door is pushed open behind him.  
  
“Oh, are you using the room right now?”  
  
Guang-Hong spins around, knocking the sheets off the stand. He can feel a part of him die in embarrassment as the pages flutter to the ground, creating a small pile around his feet. He doesn't need a mirror to tell that his annoying constant blush just got ten times worse.  
  
“No, I'll leave, its fine.”  
  
Guang-Hong wishes he hadn't looked up at the other boy.  
  
Soft brown hair reaches just above his shoulders, his bangs held back by a set of colourful bobby pins. A few unruly strands still find their way out of their confinement, gently touching his forehead. Almost invisible lines give away that he smiles a lot.  
  
I wonder what his smile looks like.  
  
“Your aura.”  
  
“My what?” Guang-Hong’s eye nervously flickers to his wrist, as if the hated bracelet could somehow have managed to end up there without him noticing. There is nothing there. Just his pale expanse of lightly freckled skin. He blushes, and meets the other boy’s eyes again.  
  
“Ah, I didn’t mean to startle you. I can see auras,” he explains, hand shooting up to fidget with his hair. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just haven’t seen any like yours before.”  
  
“Oh. It’s okay, I get that a lot. I’ll leave so you can concentrate.” Guang-Hong hurriedly gathers up the sheet music, shoving it onto the music stand. Some of the sheets slides defiantly down again, leading to more undignified floundering before they stay where they should. It feels like Guang-Hong’s face is going to explode as he passes the boy.  
To his surprise, a light hand on his shoulder stops him. Guang-Hong gawks up in confusion, feeling his heart speed up at the sight of those soft brown eyes.  
  
“Um, I. You didn’t tell me your name?”  
Guang-Hong nods stupidly. The realises that he was more or less asked a question. It takes him a full ten seconds to find the right words.  
  
“Guang-Hong.”  
“I’m Leo,” the boy replies, smiling uncertain. “See you around.”

* * *

The next time they meet is at a party. By sheer luck, Guang-Hong managed to befriend another kid in his class who is very secretive about his aura for some reason. Unlike Guang-Hong, this has not caused him any problems. Phichit is a social butterfly. He knows something about everyone, and is the general go-to-person when you’re in need of some fresh gossip.  
He is also an extreme lightweight who needs someone to watch out for him. Somehow, that job fell on Guang-Hong, which is why they’re sitting in a sofa in someone’s crowded flat. Guang-Hong isn’t sure of who owns it, but he doubts it will be very popular if Phichit pukes all over the thing.  
  
Guang-Hong tries to convey to Phichit that they should leave before he gets any sicker, but the older boy is too far gone. He giggles, and clutches Guang-Hong to retain his balance, while spewing out incoherent babble. Guang-Hong groans, wishing he could be as smashed as Phichit, then maybe he wouldn’t feel as insecure about being there.  
  
A few kids are playing their own version of spin-the-bottle on the floor, where the person who spins the bottle has to check if their aura matches with the one it lands on. So far, every match have ended up in a dull mushy colour, just like Guang-Hong’s aura. The kids laugh and tease each other about it. Some even looks a little disappointed as their friend turns out to be just that, a friend. Soulmates can be really hard to find. It is a small relief that even normal people struggle with it.  
  
Guang-Hong doesn’t have time to feel bad about it very long. He guess he should be grateful that Phichit at least tried to give a small warning before he keels over and throw up over the edge of the sofa, right onto the back of one of the spin-the-bottle players. Guang-Hong tenses, desperately trying to salvage the situation by apologising profusely for his friend. The death glare he receives from the boy makes him want to sink into the ground from secondhand embarrassment, but also because he has yet to have anyone look at him like that.  
  
He ushers Phichit into the nearest bathroom to clean him up before the boy has the chance to murder them both. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees someone offer the boy some paper, while teasingly telling him that he should take his shirt off. Guang-Hong doesn’t need to look back to know they’re being watched as they scuttle around the corner.  
Of course, Phichit decides to fall asleep after that, which leaves Guang-Hong with no choice but to wait for his friend to wake up so they can leave. He settles against the wall outside the bathroom, draping Phichit’s snoring body over his lap. The stuffy air and distant talking is nearly enough to make him doze off.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
Guang-Hong jumps. He accidentally smacks Phichit, who just sniffles and turns over in his sleep.  
“Oh sorry, did I scare you? Hey! You’re that kid from before! I’m not sure if you remember me, but nice to meet you.”  
“There’s no way I could forget you.”  
  
On Guang-Hong’s to-do list for when he gets home: 1. Melt into a fucking puddle for having said that aloud.  
  
He blushes and apologises for blocking the door, trying his best to drag Phichit with him as he scoots over. To his surprise (an inwardly mortification), Leo doesn’t enter the bathroom but slides down to sit next to him.  
  
“So, what are you doing here?”  
  
“What? You don’t think I like to party every now and then?” Guang-Hong mutters petulantly. Every since the music room incident he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Leo. For some reason, he feels a strong need to make a good impression, hence the defensive tone.  
  
Leo just hums, fortunately not offended by Guang-Hong’s cold reply. “I just thought you seemed a bit uncomfortable.”  
“To be honest,” Guang-Hong sighs. “My friend dragged me here against my will.”  
  
“That one?” Leo nods towards Phichit.  
  
“Yeah. He’s usually more careful about how much he drinks, but he said something about not being able to face his future husband sober.”  
  
Leo snorts, a smile blooming on his face. “Well that’s one way to go about it. I guess it fits him. His aura is really energetic.”  
Guang-Hong smiles wistfully. “Yeah, I guess. Do you read everyone like this?”  
  
Leo blinks at him, then looks away sheepishly. “Sorry. Does it make you uncomfortable? I know some people like to keep their auras a secret, but I can’t really help it.”  
  
“No, I just. I don’t really care much for it I guess. It’s not like mine’s suited for much either way. I guess you must know just how boring I am from seeing it.”  
  
Leo frowns, then leans closer, squinting. “What I see. It is nothing like the bracelets, and even though it can give a good indication, a person is so much more than just one colour. It is a little like listening to a song. At first, you might only notice the lyrics and the general melody of it, but if you listen closely, there are all these little details that most people miss out on.”  
  
Stunned, Guang.Hong can only nod. His traitorous heart of course, starts beating a little faster at the close proximity. He wishes the constant chanting he does in his head, telling himself that there is no way they’ll work, actually helped for once. It was painfully enough that time he had a crush on Cao Bin, an upperclassman with a fierce red aura and looks Guang-Hong would die for.  
  
“If you want to, I could show you. Meet me in the music room after school next wednesday?”  
Guang-Hong barely has the time to answer before Leo is gone.

* * *

The following days drags along at a snail-like pace. Phichit is naturally a walking dead on monday. Guang-Hong doesn’t have the heart to tell him what happened at the party as he loudly complains about his headache. The burning looks they get from the kid Phichit puked on seem to pass right above Phichit’s head.  
  
On Tuesday, they learn that his name is Seung-Gil, a korean exchange student. Phichit is mortified, but seems fine otherwise. Fine enough for Guang-Hong to tune out his ranting during lunch break at least. He keeps an eye open, in case Leo is in the canteen, but it’s but a fruitless attempt. The only thing he can do is wait.  
  
It feels like an eternity has passed when Wednesday finally comes around. Guang-Hong hates to admit it, but his concentration has been more or less zero since he walked out of his house that morning. The nervousness that has been ingrained in him all day makes his hands shake so bad it is difficult to open the door at first.  
  
The music room is a bit drafty, but he immediately feels a sense of calm as he steps into it. Leo is sitting behind the grand piano, a soft melody echoing off the concrete walls. It feels almost illicit to enter the room and interrupt it. The tune is familiar, the kind everyone has heard, but no one knows the name of. Unless, you’re a dedicated musician of character course.  
  
Leo looks up and grins at him from where he is seated. His has twisted his bangs into a small bun, the rest of his hair hanging freely down the back of his neck. It makes him resemble one of those male models who does ads for the big-brand clothing chains.  
  
Guang-Hong lingers in the doorway, suddenly feeling out of place. The fact that Leo hasn’t left him yet, still baffles him. For a brief moment, Guang-Hong fears that Leo might just hang out with him as some kind of social experiment, but then he decides Leo wouldn’t do that. Or, he hopes Leo wouldn’t do that.  
  
“Please come in. You’re going to love this,” Leo says enthusiastically. He waves Guang-Hong over with a gentle smile. Leo is bent over some kind of case when Guang-Hong finally compels his body to move. Inside, lies a transparent instrument. Guang-Hong watches curiously as Leo lifts it out of the case and places it in front of him.  
  
“It’s an aura cello. It works similar to all that cheap aura jewellery you can buy t shady shops in foreign countries, except this technology is way more refined.”  
  
“Oh. Sounds nice?”  
  
“Shh, don’t doubt me yet. You think your aura is a black and white thing, or more like a single colour, but you’re wrong. The bracelets just leaves out the nuances. Now watch.”  
  
Leo closes his eyes and places the bow on top of the strings. As he coaxes the first note out of the instrument, a swirl of pale green shoots out into the glasslike structure of the instrument. Like the sound Leo is making, the colour is calm and muted. Then, he changes the melody. This time, into a fast paced string of notes that sounds like it could have been from one of the action movies Guang-Hong loves. The colour changes into a more vivid hue, energetic and alive like Leo himself.  
Guang-Hong doesn’t know how long he just stands there in awe and watches Leo play, but when he is done, Guang-Hong is just about to break into tears.  
  
“Please teach me!”  
  
“I told you that you’d love it. They make these for most instruments, so whatever suits you the best. I could ask if it is too late to join the music club if you’d like?”  
  
Guang-Hong nods, not able to keep his tears back.  
  
“Thank you.”

* * *

They hang out a lot after that. Guang-Hong choses flute as his instrument. It is frustratingly hard at the beginning, but Leo promises he will help Guang-Hong save up for an aura flute if he doesn’t quit, so he refuses to give up.  
The school year flies by faster than any other he has lived through. In a way, it is almost sad considering how much better he feels about himself when he’s around Leo. His mom will gently tease him for it, but whenever Leo visits, she acts as if he is her long lost son. Mildly embarrassing, but Guang-Hong will live.  
  
The dreaded date of Leo’s graduation is fast approaching. As a result, Guang-Hong is more or less glued to the older boy’s side. Even Phichit, who managed to square up with Seung-Gil and has been hanging around him ever since notices Guang-Hong’s stressed behaviour.  
  
“You should just tell him how you feel,” Phichit says one day. They're eating lunch together for what feels like the first time in weeks.  
“But what if our colours don't match? What if he has a soulmate out there just waiting to find him ? I don't want to come between that.”  
  
  
Phichit snorts and shoves his tray away from him. “I thought the thing you liked about Leo was that he made you forget about the meaning of your aura. Either way, even if he does have a soulmate out there, there's no guarantee they'll ever meet.Ji. What are the odds that you will ever find anyone who makes you this happy again?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Guang-Hong murmurs. ”  
  
“Tell him or I will.”  
  
Guang-Hong shoots out of his chair, almost tipping his carton of orange juice. “What? That’s not fair!”  
“Life isn’t fair,” Phichit sing-songs, patting his shoulder.  
  
“Okay okay, I will. He’s coming over this weekend.”  
  
“Good, tell me how it went.”  
  
“I don’t want the entire world to know,” Guang-Hong mumbles shyly. Phichit smiles innocently, positioning his phone for another selfie.  
  
“If that’s how you want it, but I have a notion. I think this might become a good story someday.”

* * *

  
“Are you sure?”  
Guang-Hong nods. He and Leo are sitting on his bed. Leo’s cello is lying in its case at the foot of the bed. There is a plain rectangular box in front of Guang-Hong. He already knows its contents.  
  
“What if it doesn’t work out? I don’t want you to be disappointed. To me it doesn’t matter you know.”  
  
Gung-Hong shakes his head. “No, I have to know. And it doesn’t matter to me either, but I have never met anyone I wanted it to work out with this bad before. If we don’t get results, we can forget it. It doesn’t change my feelings for you.”  
  
Leo smiles, leaning in to give Guang-Hong a peck on the lips. It makes Guang-Hong’s stomach churn with delight.  
  
“If you’re sure.”  
  
Leo turns his back to Guang-Hong to pick up his cello and prepares the bow. The feeling of anticipation is tight in Guang-Hong’s chest. He slowly opens the box in front of him, revealing a clear transparent flute. He pieces it together with practiced motions. It feels just right holding it in his hands. Guang-Hong can’t think of a better circumstance to first play it, than to figure out if Leo is his soulmate or not.  
  
They give each a brief look then begins to play. Leo’s cello turns a vivid green while the flute is filled with different shades of murky brown. The song they have picked is one Leo wrote for them. Sweet harmonies fill the room, drawing them closer and closer until the two instruments touch, and their auras mix for the first time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to artemisetoile for betaing!


End file.
